


The Road Home

by Calleva



Series: The Steapa Chronicles [2]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Romance, F/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calleva/pseuds/Calleva
Summary: Sequel to 'Harvest Moon'This story is based on Bernard Cornwell's books and the TV show 'The Last Kingdom'.Steapa the warrior has helped a lone girl in Winchester and now must take her home to her family in Reading. Detained by the Michaelmas Fair, they meet Uhtred, who makes an unusual gift to Steapa.The journey's end isn't quite what the big warrior had imagined.
Relationships: Steapa (The Last Kingdom)/Other(s)
Series: The Steapa Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870489
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	The Road Home

The mocking laughter rang in his ears as he woke. His muscles were stiff; he must have fallen asleep in the tavern while that bunch of oafs made fun of him.

He looked around and remembered. There had been a harvest moon and he had helped a young lad trying to steady a half-broken horse, only to find that the lad was a girl and she had travelled to the Wessex capital on her own with this unlikely gift for the King. 

He had taken her to the guards' quarters in the stable yard and given her something to eat. She was supposed to sleep there while he guarded outside. Was she still there? He rubbed his eyes and stood up. Maybe she had slipped away in the early hours, sparing him the problem of what to do with her. He knocked on the door and opened it a crack.  
"Hello?"  
There was silence so he pushed the door further open and looked inside. A small dark bundle on the floor told him she was still there. To his surprise he felt pleased.

_Steapa snotor.... big on muscle, short on brain....._

She had kissed him lightly on the cheek instead of laughing at his nickname. He cleared his throat and the bundle stirred. A dark tousled head appeared, then two slim arms, stretching, accompanied by a yawn. "Oh, sorry, am I very late?"  
"I wake early."

Like a little cat, the young girl sprang up and regarded him intently. "I should go. Thank you for everything, sir."  
"I will go with you. The roads aren't safe."  
He was going to insist on this. She was a slip of a thing and should not be travelling alone even if she could be mistaken for a boy. 

The Michaelmas fair was in full swing. Steapa noticed Editha's eyes drinking it in as they rode past the scene. She had perhaps not seen anything like this before. He drew in his horse and looked down at her. "We could take a look."  
"What about the journey? It's a day's ride to Readingum."  
He shrugged; "You can look round, if you are quick." He didn't know much about women but he thought they had a fancy for the kind of trinkets bought at fairs. Editha had short hair that stuck out oddly, as if she'd cut it herself. Perhaps a pretty ribbon would not stay put. 

There were many people there, some had travelled especially for it, to see and experience the sights and smells of the capital's autumn fair. Geese squawked and children ran about, eager for warm cakes and honeyed plums. Editha darted away like an eel and Steapa lost her briefly in the press of people. He wandered up and down the stalls, laid out in rows according to their wares, and found her standing in front of a table covered with hot pies. The smell was tempting; the meat was fresh, the pastry golden and crisp. He was about to remind her that they had packed a mid day meal of bread and cheese but noticed the shadows under her eyes, the signs of hunger just under her skin. Silently, he bought two pies and motioned to her. The gleam in her eye confirmed to him that she was not used to many treats.  
"We should be..." He began but she had darted away again.  
"Having trouble?" A familiar voice sounded behind him.  
"Not especially," He replied defensively then remembering Uhtred's knack of drawing women to him, added "A young girl with short hair. Looks like a boy, but isn't." He reddened. He must sound stupid. Blushing at his inability to express himself, he made to hurry off. "You have a woman, Steapa? You'll have to keep hold of her better than that. Try the stalls selling pretty things, ribbons, nosegays."  
"I don't think she likes those things. She turned up last night with a gift for the King and I'm taking her home to Readingum."

Editha appeared as suddenly as she had left and gazed long at Steapa's companion. She took a pie from Steapa's hand and bit into it hungrily "I suppose we should go. I wish I had some coins, I'd buy you something." Her eyes were still on Uhtred however.  
"You brought a horse and I owe you for it." Well, the King couldn't ride it, he was no horseman.  
"He wasn't much use on the farm. No one wanted him. When's your birthday? I'll make him a gift to you."  
Steapa looked uncomfortable. Uhtred was watching him and he couldn't say he didn't know when he had been born. As it was, he dreaded being teased about Editha.  
"All right," he said.  
"You have a birthday?" Suddently Uhtred's blue eyes focused inwards, as if he was thinking hard. He looked at Editha for a moment and then back at Steapa. 

Uhtred Ragnarson had learned to read people but he often found Steapa a mystery. People laughed at the big man, calling him 'clever', meaning the opposite. He had rescued Steapa from the Danes in Chippenham where he was chained and being goaded to fight like a captive bear. Since that moment he had earned the loyalty of the King's bodyguard. He wasn't his oath-lord, but he knew that the great warrior would give him fealty if he could. Uhtred wondered about that little maid - Steapa was clearly embarrassed at being seen with her, so she wasn't a relation. An idea formed in his mind. Oath lords give gifts. Even if the girl wasn't interested in Steapa, this would earn her respect and that would be good for him. 

Plus, he liked and trusted Steapa as much as he mistrusted and resented Alfred. His thoughts turned to the hoard he'd left in a secret place. Who better than the big warrior to guard it for him? Then he would head north with his woman and concentrate on Bebbanburg. he held out a coin to the girl, "Take this and find yourself a treat. I need a few words with my friend here."  
Shyly, Editha took the coin and wandered away. 

"As it is Michaelmas and your birthday I'm making you a gift. I've got some land I have no use for and it's yours if you'd like it. It's not much, just five hides, four slave families and a few rocks, but it's on the Kennet and near to Readingum. I've a hoard buried there - Hild knows about it. You can have the land, build a home, raise a family -" He gave a little nod in the direction of Editha "or not. Keep my treasure safe until I need it, and you can have the land."

Steapa blinked and said nothing. 'He really is stupid after all' Uhtred thought, and then the big man spoke. "If you are sure..."  
"Alfred gave it to me as a reward after Ethandun, instead of a great estate and riches. But anyway I'm lord of Bebbanburg in the north. You could take it over, maybe extend it in time.... "  
"That's very generous, lord. I want to raise horses - Editha's given me a stallion, and the land would be where I can start. If you are sure."  
"For the love of Odin please stop saying that. I am sure. I don't want Alfred's 'gift' which is useless to me. It's called Fifhaden, and it's yours. Build a house on it, sell it - just don't forget my hoard."  
"Thank you Lord. As it is near Readingum I will visit it on my way back."  
"Take that pretty girl with you," Uhtred winked at the blushing warrior and was gone.

Steapa was silent for the beginning of the journey. Groups of travellers were still coming towards Winchester but few leaving it just yet. He kept his warhorse on a firm rein so that his companion could keep up. Her own pony was a sturdy but plain beast, fit but not fast. Uhtred had given him the directions to Fifhaden and it was conveniently close to Readingum, assuming Editha's home was near the main route. Would it be possible for him to have his dream of a home and horses at last? Dreams are all very well but reality wasn't always so kind. Still, the land, however modest, would be a start. He'd be able to find a wife, but who would have him, tongue-tied as he often was, and without the smooth conversation of an Uhtred?  
"What did your friend want?" Asked Editha at length, "or is it a secret? Do you have to kill some Danes?"  
Steapa smiled grimly, "Lord Uhtred gave me a piece of land. I'll visit it when I've seen you home as it is near where you live."  
"Aww" Her whine was like a child's, "Can't we go first so I can see it too? Have you got any other lands?"  
"Only this one. Yesterday I had nothing. Now I have a stallion and five hides of land. I'm going to build a house for myself." He realised this sounded rather good.  
"So you can take Jericho there and breed him? Wonderful!" Then her face fell as she looked thoughtful, "But what about a wife? Have you got someone in mind?"  
"Not yet,"  
"So you will marry?"  
"I don't know." 

_Steapa snotor, your brains got knocked out in the shield wall....._

How would he ever persuade a girl of his own choosing to marry him when all the world knew him for a fool, fit only for wielding a sword in battle? The lass beside him had only had eyes for Uhtred, yet Uhtred would only break her heart - but how could he ever compete? He wasn't lord of anything, he couldn't read or write, he was just a brute with a talent for battle. He didn't even know how to talk to a woman, to say the things that might impress her, win her... Of course Editha was very young, she might prefer some pimply youth with down on his chin instead. Yet.... she wasn't fussy or temperamental (he thought not anyway) and she liked simple things, preferring pies to frippery. She would know how to run a farm too.

Stop it, you fool. _Steapa snotor, feet like platters, giants don't dance...._

He felt his stomach rumble. The pie had been delicious but not man-sized. He fumbled in his saddlebag for the bread and cheese. "Hungry?"  
"I could eat. Let's stop and have it beside the stream!" she pointed to the woods beside the track, they were deep but the sound of running water could be heard clearly. He frowned "I don't know... need to make the most of daylight...."  
"Aw why not? It's so pretty. And it's not every day I go on a journey. Please..." Her large expressive eyes gazed pleadingly at him. He gave in at once.  
She sat on a dry clump overlooking the swiftly running stream. The trees made a pleasant canopy and she sighed happily as he handed her the crumpled bread roll with a piece of cheese, already hard round the edges. It was a pleasant spot, she was right, but he was uneasy all the same. He glanced round him, "Right, stay here, I will only be a moment...."  
She nodded and realised he was right. A stop must not be wasted. She'd take advantage of it too, once he was out of sight.

She was attending to herself, adjusting the pair of boy's breeches she wore under her long tunic when there was the sound of a twig snapping behind her. An arm closed round her waist, "Well, well, a boy who pisses like a girl - what have we here?" She smelled stale breath and felt its heat on her shoulder. She squirmed, "Let go of me... I haven't any coin....."  
There was laughter as two burly men came into view, she assumed her captor looked much the same. They were filthy and ill-kempt, and had clearly been living rough for a long time. From their speech and the look of them they were Danes. She shuddered, realising what this meant. Oh where was Steapa?! Had they slit his throat?  
"You may not have coin, lady," And a hand tauntingly flipped a strand of her cropped hair, "but you will make coin, plenty, in the markets in Francia. Your hair will have grown by then too."  
"It is a girl, yes?" A hand felt for her breast and squeezed it, "oh yes.... what do we say lads, shall we break her in now?"

Editha was frantic, she had no doubt that her future was set to be very unpleasant unless she was rescued and quickly. She looked in the direction Steapa had gone, hoping for movement but there was nothing, not a leaf rustled. Oh, where was he?

At that point there was a loud noise behind them as if something was approaching very fast. She heard rustling leaves and a rapid heavy gait, as of a mad wild boar and hoped it would stop to gore her attackers so she could flee. There were shouts and the grip on her waist lightened. She twisted free, running to the place where she had left her bread. Well, it wasn't much of a weapon but perhaps the crumbs might go into their eyes... the hard bit of cheese might help too.... she swept them up and spun round, both hands raised with their edible missiles.

It was no wild boar but Steapa - he must have heard the voices and crept around via the trackway to attack from behind, where they would not be expecting him. One of the men was down, not moving and a second was not faring well. For such a big man, Steapa moved like lightning, the huge sword almost weightless in his hand. The third man ran at her wielding a rusty short blade and she dodged aside, screaming insults and waving the bread roll menacingly, aiming to push it into his face. Steapa was there first and grasping the man by his hair, pulled him aside, despatching him swiftly - Editha didn't look to see exactly how.  
"You all right?" He was barely out of breath as he wiped his blade against the forest floor.  
"Oh I am so sorry - it was all my fault for wanting to eat among the trees." She began to shake. He caught her as her legs gave way and held her against him while she recovered. "Don't fret, lass. I would never have let them take you."

Steapa decided that the visit to Fifhaden should take place after he had left Editha with her family. She was badly shaken and must yearn to be home. She had clung to him after he'd freed her, taking silent comfort in his embrace. He was glad she wasn't a person who needed a lot of words to reassure her. After a few moments she had recovered enough to continue the journey. He wondered if she was always calm like that, or perhaps it had been his presence.

Stop it! _... Steapa snotor, blundering bear... keep your hands for your weapons....._

It would be good to know that there was a woman who had been made especially for him, and that she was called Editha. He stole a sideways glance at her, she was calm now. She hadn't screamed and wept after the attack, just trembled and almost fainted. He noticed her thin wrist from beneath the folds of her tunic and wondered what kind of home she came from. She hadn't felt especially bony when she had clung to him, but her clothing was thick. Her hair had smelled of sweet herbs. He liked that she wasn't given to hysterics, that she had a healthy appetite for food and loved horses. He wondered if her boyish disguise was made for the journey to Winchester or if she always looked like that. Her dark hair worn long would be beautiful he thought, though her urchin appearance appealed to his protective side. He should try to talk to her, that is what Uhtred would do.  
"Do you like dogs?"  
"Very much."

Well, that didn't last long..... He looked down at her just as she was looking up at him. She smiled shyly. Perhaps she didn't need to talk a lot, he thought.

Don't be a fool! You just want to think that! _Steapa snotor.... snotor.... snotor....._

"You like my friend Lord Uhtred."  
"He seems nice, and he gave you some land. I was wondering why you didn't introduce me? Do I look that bad?" A small furrow appeared between her eyes.  
"I didn't think. I apologise."

Editha wasn't used to anyone apologising to her. The man Uhtred had been interesting, he was clearly another warrior but one that Steapa had treated with respect. The kind of respect owed to a local lord. She'd stared at him and that had been rude, but she'd never seen an oath-lord close up before. The man had an air of quiet authority, the kind that is used to being obeyed. He'd given her the coin in the way one treats a child. Steapa, she thought, didn't think of her in that way. 

He was not like any man she'd ever met. She recalled the feeling of his powerful arms around her, the gentleness of him. She had never felt so safe. Yet she'd seen him in battle - she always thought fighters used a lot of energy, throwing their weight around and waving swords about. He hadn't done that. It was as if the sword was part of his arm, and he used it with the barest of movement. She'd never seen anything like that. He had killed those three robbers without breaking a sweat. If the Lord Uhtred had given him land, then he will value this man greatly, she thought.

One hide can support an entire family, so five.... She thought wistfully about what it would be like to have a home on one's own land. She was aware that the big warrior watched her when he thought she wasn't looking. She had learned to be watchful of men, but all the same, she was not afraid of him. He'd had plenty of chances to take advantage of her and he had not. He'd even slept outside in the courtyard out of respect for her. 'Perhaps', she thought, 'my appearance has put him off. He probably thinks I am odd. He will know many fine ladies who don't dress in scruffy leggings and cut their hair.'

She'd implied that her disguise was a way of protecting herself on the road and this was true, in a way. The reality of living with her father and brothers had made her dress as unbecomingly as possible. It's how she knew Steapa was aware of her. She had learned to be watchful.

She had never felt so safe...... Dreams were dangerous, she had learned not to trust them.

Perhaps they should have gone to Fifhaden first, Steapa mused, when he saw Editha's home. It would have given her more time away from it. He had noticed how she had become more withdrawn and silent as the journey grew shorter. No wonder.

Had he been a cat, his tail would have fluffed out and stood on end. A warrior had good instincts, yet he didn't expect to have to fight here. Why was it, then, that he had a sense of dread about this place without even going inside the house? He left Editha to put away her pony and knocked on the door of the hovel. A low grunt came in response, so he went inside.

The air was stale and there was mess everywhere. Piles of filthy platters, a heap of rags that might have been clothes all strewn over the ground so that it was hard to know if it was a wooden or an earth floor. It looked as if an army of Danes had ransacked the place, and yet there was a living man seated at the table, picking at the bones of something long dead on his platter. He had matted grey hair and filthy broken fingernails.  
"I've brought your daughter home."  
"Eh? So where is the lazy bitch? There's work to be done now she's finished gallivanting. Cows don't milk themselves and clothes don't wash neither."

Controlling his urge to beat the man's head on the table until it no longer resembled anything human, Steapa pulled up a chair and began conversation. 

The girl's mother had died some years ago, and Editha had been expected to maintain the house while helping on the farm as well. The father and two brothers seemed to regard her as a kind of slave because during her absence it was apparent that nothing had been done at all. The men were content to live in filth and expect her to clear it up later. Biting his lip, Steapa pretended to agree with the old man that women were in general, lazy and the source of endless trouble. "Only good for one thing. Shame she's my daughter really," Editha's father wheezed and spat onto the floor.

Steapa saw all too well the reason for the boyish disguise. Males were all that mattered in this household, and besides that, it wasn't wise to appear too womanly. His urge to break this man's skull all over the table increased, but that would not help Editha.

"She doesn't appear to be much use to you...."  
The older man looked up, his eyes registering, "I didn't say that, she's like all her kind. Only thing they understand is a stick," He leered at the realisation of the double meaning.  
"How much would you take for her?"  
"She's my daughter, why would I part with her?"  
"Because" said Steapa, slowly standing up and looming over the seated man, "I am going to make you an offer which would be very unwise for you to refuse." He took the man by the collar and pulled him to his feet. "You understand?"  
The man nodded, choking slightly at the pressure on his throat.  
"I'll give you ten shillings for her and the horse."  
The man's eyes showed he was seriously considering this. It was a fair price for a female slave.  
"She's my dear daughter, she's worth more than that."  
"You yourself said she is lazy...."

At that he stopped as the door opened and Editha herself walked in. Steapa dropped her father back into his chair. The father looked at his daughter and shrugged. "Be a good girl," He rasped and turned away.  
Editha stared at the coins on the table and then at Steapa. His expression was unreadable.  
"Get your horse saddled," he said, "you're coming with me."  
"Not the horse. You can take the girl." Came the raspy voice, weak but audible.  
Steapa shrugged. "Be grateful I didn't kill you."  
He caught Editha by her elbow and steered her out. The farmyard smell outside was a relief after the rancid odour in the house.  
" Come on, you wanted to see Fifhaden, didn't you?" he led her to his horse and lifted her up before pulling himself up in front of her.  
"W-wait.... what happened in there? Have you _bought_ me?"  
"Well I couldn't leave you in this place."

They rode on in silence. What was he going to do with the girl? He'd paid for her quite legally and she was now his, but he had no desire or use for a slave. He would free her of course, but what then? She had nowhere to go and no means of supporting herself. He'd gladly make her his wife, but would a girl with no say in her future be free to accept him? To his surprise Editha made no sound on the journey to Fifhaden; he had expected at least a complaint or even a question as to her future.

Well being ambushed by three ugly Danes and then sold by her own father all before sundown must have taken all the words from her. The Danes were almost certainly planning to sell her into slavery and now she had been. It was common enough, sadly, for families to sell their children during times of famine. What Steapa did not understand was how her family could value Editha so little. Surely anyone with eyes in their head could see what a treasure she was?

He recalled the sense of threat that he'd had approaching the hovel and realised why. He had been put in mind of his own childhood - the stern, unloving father, the mean homestead ..... For a girl it might be even worse, he thought.  
"Your father, he beat you?"  
"Mmm-hm"  
"Did he do anything else? What about your brothers?" His meaning was clear.  
"N-no. They didn't feed me as well as themselves. I worked harder but of course women don't need to eat much."  
Steapa wasn't good at irony, but he understood it this time.  
"I bought you your freedom, not your slavery. You're free. You can even go back there if you want."  
She was silent, thinking.

"Free to go where?"  
"Where would you like?"  
"I'd like to see your land."  
"It's called Fifhaden, five hides. Not much, I'm afraid. I'm just a warrior, not a rich man."

Fifhaden was on rising ground and the River Kennet flowed through it on the way to join the Temmes at Readingum. It was stony but, he thought, not poor. He looked for the clump of trees that Uhtred had mentioned and saw the boulders which covered the hoard.  
"I could make a home here," He said aloud, thinking. "The stone can be cleared and the bigger pieces shaped for building. There is enough wood to build a hall. Wouldn't be big, not at first, but it would be secure against rain, cold and Danes."  
"And stabling and fields for horses - there's a stream. Build the home alongside, and perhaps a field by the shallow end. Leave some trees for shade." She began to warm to the idea but then stopped and blushed.  
"I like that idea. What do you think? Could you be happy here? The house will be yours to run, you would have charge over the slaves. I'm sure one of the women would work for you. You can make it how you like...." He found himself unable to say the things he wanted. This always happened when he was nervous. _Steapa snotor... Steapa stupid...._

Editha looked at him slowly, wordlessly. This man, she realised, wished her well, but he would probably never come to the point. She would have to do that for him.  
"As your... wife then?"  
"Yes" Muttered so softly she could barely hear him.

For a man who had just bought her, he seemed nervous in her company, she thought. The look on his face told it all, loneliness, longing and desire for approval. She recalled his ferocity and his gentleness. She need never be afraid again.  
"And you'll teach me to fight? In case the Danes come when you are away.."  
"I wouldn't dare," he gave a laugh, "having seen how bravely you handled yourself. A basket of bread and an army of Danes will flee from you!"  
They burst out laughing, the strains of the day finally lifting until they were exhausted from laughter. 

Steapa put an arm round his betrothed as they watched the river snaking its way to the great river Temmes that would pass through Lundene on its way to the sea. 

He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> A 'hide' was a medieval measurement of land, equal to about 120 acres. Thus, Fifhaden was between five and six hundred acres in total, so in modern terms, not that measly. One hide was assessed as enough for one family to live off. 
> 
> Slaves were a part of life in the Anglo-Saxon age although there were laws to protect them. Ten shillings was probably a good price for Editha. A male slave might have cost double.
> 
> Birthdays weren't celebrated as they are now, I took a little artistic licence!


End file.
